Trick or Treat
by EmmaGoldmanSachs
Summary: It's Halloween. Clary and Jace are on holiday in England. The Weasleys are also on holiday, visiting Hermione's muggle relatives in York. Rose and Hugo go trick-or-treating, but when they knock at the door of a old converted church, everyone gets a surprise.
1. Chapter 1

It hadn't really crossed Hermione's mind when she arranged the visit that it would be Halloween. Although there was the annual feast at Hogwarts, beyond that it wasn't a particularly significant festival in the wizarding world. Since she and Ron were in the north of England already for a short family holiday walking in the Dales, it had seemed like a good opportunity to spend a couple of extra days and catch up with her aunt and uncle in York.

Great-uncle Maurice and Great-aunty Cassie loved children, and were delighted to spend time with Rose and Hugo. However, they were absolutely horrified when they discovered, very soon after their arrival, that the two had never been trick or treating. Hermione had done her best to pass it off, playing up 'still very little' and 'don't want them out past their bedtime', though she knew she was onto a loser with 'too many sweets would be bad for them'. Quite obviously, she couldn't mention the fact that 'Wizards don't really make much of Halloween' to her muggle aunt and uncle.

Ron hadn't been any help at all. For a start, as he'd pointed out to Hermione when they had a moment on their own, this visit was meant to be an opportunity for Rose and Hugo to keep in touch with their muggle heritage. And besides, unlike Hermione, _his _parents weren't dentists, and as far as he could see, going out and getting lots of sweets seemed like a great idea, he would have loved it, and he was sure Rose and Hugo would too.

In the end, Cassie had flatly insisted on taking the two children to the supermarket that morning and buying them each the outfit of their choice, along with lots of sweets for all the children of the street. Hermione had the presence of mind to explain to the children before their supermarket trip that they mustn't laugh at the witch costumes, as Great-auntie Cassie might be hurt, and with the children suitably fore-warned, the outing proved a great success. They had come home with a skeleton suit for Hugo, and a red Devil costume, complete with pitchfork, for Rose, as well little baskets to hold sweets, and the biggest pumpkin that Great-auntie Cassie could carry. They had then spent the afternoon carving the pumpkin, trying on their chosen costumes, and playing with the facepaints that she had also bought them.

As Ron, Hermione and the children headed out the door after dinner it was pleasantly warm for the end of October, and there were lots of other trick-or-treaters already out and about. Maurice and Cassie had decided to stay home, as they were expecting lots of the neighbours' children to call, and wanted to see all of their outfits.

The family worked their way along the street, calling at any brightly lit homes, especially those with pumpkins or other decorations, and the children very soon had a good collection of sweets in their baskets. Ron had really got into the swing of things, going up to the door with the children, then standing back as it opened and the two chorused 'Trick or Treat!"

Turning the corner into the next road, they came to an attractive old building, ablaze with light, that looked like it was probably a redundant church converted into a large house. It seemed to him to have great possibilities "Let's go over there" he suggested

"I'm not so sure" Hermione, as ever, was more cautious "They don't have any decorations out"

"Mu-um, don't be so silly" The children, too, had overcome any initial doubts about knocking on strangers' doors and asking for sweets. Rose was determined; "It's all lit up, and Great Auntie Cassie said that anyone who didn't want visitors would turn off their lights in the front of the house."

"All right," Hermione gave in "But if they don't answer straight away, don't knock again"

"Okay" chorused the two children, and rushed up to the door, Hugo getting there first and reaching up to swing the big, old-fashioned knocker.

Before she had time to get any more stressed, the door opened wide. Inside stood a small woman with striking red hair, who looked down at the children, smiled, and then spoke, in an American accent;

"Hey, neat costumes. I didn't know you got trick or treaters here in England. I don't know if we've got any candy, though, we're just visiting. " She turned, calling down the hall way "Jace . . . Do you know if there's any candy? "

A tall blond man came out of a side room. "I don't know, why?" He also had an American accent.

"There's trick or treaters here" The woman smiled down at the children again "We've got a devil, and a very scary little skeleton"

The man came down the hallway to the door. He didn't look anywhere near as friendly as the woman, Hermione noticed.

"_What_ are they doing here?" He didn't sound particularly friendly either when he spoke.

At this point, Hermione was just about to dash up to the children, sweep them up, and rush them off with an apology.

But right then, two small children appeared in the hallway.

"You told us no-one went trick or treating in England" The older child, a red headed boy who looked around Rose's age, sounded accusatory.

Before either of the adults could speak, Rose answered, with all the certainty of someone who had just discovered the fact herself a few hours ago. "Of course they do! There are loads of trick or treaters everywhere. Hasn't anybody else knocked at your door?"

This time the younger child spoke, a small blonde girl "They can't knock at our door, silly, because they can't see it." Her brother tugged at her sleeve, obviously trying to stop her speaking.

Rose and Hugo looked at each other, baffled by this. Hugo spoke first "What do you mean they can't see it, that's _really_ silly"

Rose continued from her brother "It's the biggest house on the street, _and_ it's got the most lights"

By now, the adults were all looking at the four children. Ron, less worried about social niceties than Hermione, voiced both of their thoughts "What _exactly_ do you mean, they can't see it?"


	2. Chapter 2

Clary and Jace were greatly enjoying their first proper holiday travelling abroad with the children. They had Portalled to the London institute and spent a few days in the city, seeing the sights. After that, they had travelled first to Wales, and then across to the York institute to see some of the British countryside, and to see some of the places with links to their Herondale and Fairchild ancestors.

They'd arrived in York that afternoon and spent some time exploring the city. After dinner, their Shadowhunter hosts headed out to a party at the local werewolf pack headquarters. Although it seemed like a nice idea to meet some English werewolves, Gabe and Amatis were tired from the journey, so they decided it might be best to stay in and have an early night.

The family had just settled down in the big old fashioned sitting room with books chosen from the library when their was a knock at the door. Clary got up to answer it, expecting a Downworlder on the way to the party.

Instead, when she opened the door, she saw an entirely human family; a tall, gangly man with bright red hair, two small children dressed in Halloween costumes, and, hanging back a little a woman with lots of shoulder length brown hair, presumably their mother.

"Trick or Treat," the children chorused in unison.

Clary was charmed; she hadn't realised that English children celebrated Halloween, and she had been a little sad that Gabe and Amatis would miss the annual opportunity to dress up. At home, they always spent the day at Luke's farm, going out trick or treating in the nearby village in the evening, and on to a party run by the local Presbyterian church.

For some reason, maybe because she associated Halloween so completely with the Mundane world, it didn't at first strike her as odd that a very obviously mundane family had just knocked at the Institute door.

She called out to Jace, wondering if he'd seen any candy around in his explorations. Coming into the hallway, he, unlike Clary, realised immediately that something strange was going on.

"_What_ are they doing here?" Jace was tired, he had planned a relaxing evening reading to the children, perhaps a glass of wine. He really didn't want to have to deal with random mundanes; random _English_ mundanes at that. Unfortunately, being Jace, all of this was readily apparent in his voice.

The brown haired woman looked mortified. Clary knew how she felt – she'd had similar experiences with Jace's scathing tones herself when she'd first met him.

By now, Gabe and Amatis had got bored of waiting for their father to come back and carry on with their story, and followed him out into the hallway to see what was happening. Gabe was less than impressed to see two children, very clearly dressed up for Halloween. He glared at his mother

"_You told us_ no-one went trick or treating in England!"

Clary didn't really hear the children's conversation; she was thinking hard, trying to figure out what was going on. This was clearly an entire Mundane family with the Sight; unusual, but not unheard of. What was far more unexpected is that they clearly had no idea what the Institute was, nor what it represented. Normally, such families would be known to the local Shadowhunters, and well aware of the Downworld.

Not only that, but in practice, these days, sighted Mundanes were even rarer than in the past. In the aftermath of the Dark War, when the Clave had agreed to recruit new Shadowhunters, they had been actively sought out across the world, and where-ever possible their children had been recruited for Ascension.

By the time the tall man spoke again, she had decided that the only way forward was honesty. If nothing else, two children with the Sight were potentially very valuable.

She chose her words carefully; "There are certain . . . protections . . . on this building. On the whole, it isn't immediately obvious to ordinary people." Trying to be tactful, Clary continued, "Do you find that sometimes you see, well, things, that most people don't"

The man stared at her, looking baffled, but it was the woman who answered. "Very nicely put, but you know, that should be _our _line. Except that we don't generally have to use it; if _we_ want something to stay hidden, it does."

Clary and Jace looked at each other. Clary spoke first. "I think you'd better come in."


	3. Chapter 3

The adults went through into the big Institute sitting room, and Teddy and Rose vanished off upstairs with Amatis and Gabe. While Ron made small talk, admiring the old fashioned leather armchairs and wood panelling, Hermione discreetly made sure her wand was within reach. These people clearly weren't muggles; the place reeked of magic, but not any magic that she recognised.

This definitely needed further investigation, and only one thing sprung to mind as an option. Turning to Clary, she asked "Could I just use your toilet . . . ?"

To Clary's surprise, Jace answered, all friendliness. "Sure – I'll show you where it is." He looked round at the others "Then I'll go have a hunt in the kitchen, see if I can find something to drink."

He showed Hermione upstairs, then did indeed go into the kitchen. A suspicious observer, though, might have felt that he didn't appear to be looking very hard for drinks. Come to that, the same observer might have felt that Hermione seemed to be taking rather a long time in the toilet.

When she finally came out, Jace was leaning idly against the wall at the top of the stairs, watching the door. "I'm guessing" he said, neutrally "that you are the nasty suspicious minded person in your family?"

Hermione didn't say anything. For once, she seemed lost for words. Jace continued. "That's not an insult, by the way. _I'm_ undoubtedly the nasty suspicious one in our household. I'm also guessing that you've been sat in there finding out exactly who and what we are. Am I right?"

Hermione remained silent. Now, Jace thought, she didn't so much look lost for words, as poised and wary, ready for action.

He spoke again. "Would it help if I confessed that I have been downstairs in the kitchen, doing exactly the same thing?"

"And - what did you find out?" asked Hermione.

"Well, I spoke to a good friend of mine who's a warlock, and who's been around a while. He's met people like you before – witches and wizards, he says. Live quite separately from the Mundane world, don't have anything to do with it as a rule, that's why we don't run into you. He seemed quite surprised that you were here, to be honest." He paused. "So, are you going to share what you found out?"

Hermione considered for a moment, but she couldn't see any obvious reason not to reply. "Shadowhunters; otherwise known as Nephilim. Live amongst but hidden from what you call mundanes, see themselves as sworn warriors with a vocation to fight demons"

Jace raised his eyebrows. "How dull. Nothing else?"

Hermione sighed. "Well, if you must know, I think the actual quote was 'They're a bunch of total psychos, spend their time wandering around draped in magical weapons throwing them at all and sundry, pausing now and then for an emotionally traumatic doomed love affair.' Oh, and I think he also said that one of you nearly caused the end of the world a few years back?"

"Now _that_ sounds more amusing. Shall I share some more? _My_ source tells me that there are light wizards – and witches, I assume – and dark. That the dark variety get their kicks in all sorts of charming ways, including torturing mundanes, and probably cute fluffy animals and small children as well. He also mentioned that one of these dark wizards nearly took over the world not so long ago, with the stated intention of killing all mundanes and reducing everyone else to servitude. Does that sound about right?"

Jace fixed Hermione with a close stare. "His considered advice was to take you by surprise, overpower you and remove your wands, and then confine you somewhere safe until he could get here and modify your memory, then send you safely back off to wizard-land remembering nothing at all about us. "

Hermione smiled, wryly "Strangely enough, I was given similar advice. 'Get down there quick, obliviate the lot of them, and get out. We don't want that lot knowing about ordinary decent wizards' "

"Well" said Jace. "It seems that we are at something of an impasse. Looking at that rather shiny stick you're trying to point at me unobtrusively, it seems that I may be a little late to catch you by surprise and remove your wand. But then here I am, spoiling your rituals, which I imagine will make _your _magic rather more tricky."

Hermione looked at him. She raised her eyebrows. "_Rituals_?" She twitched her wand towards a chair sitting in the corner of the landing. There was a brief flash of light, the chair vanished, and a rather large tortoise sat in its place. "I don't know what sort of magic your warlock friend does, but I am a _real_ witch."

A flash of light shot towards Jace; unfortunately for Hermione, by the time it reached him he had moved several feet to the left. He still managed to look casual. "A very fine tortoise. But it would seem that you have to actually _hit_ whatever you are aiming at. It may be worth mentioning at this point that I am generally considered to move a little faster than your average chair."

"I think you may be underselling yourself, Jace Herondale." As she spoke, Jace realised that despite all his vaunted suspicion, he had underestimated her. She continued; "My sources tell me you are generally considered the best fighter of your generation of Shadowhunters. However, _I_ am generally considered to be the strongest witch of _my_ generation. And _no-one_ is going to think about overpowering me and taking my wand away."

With the last sentence, a blizzard of flashes hurtled around the hallway. Jace managed to avoid being hit – just - dodging behind pieces of furniture, and retreating further down the hallway. As the flashes subsided he lifted his hands, palms out.

He spoke calmly. "I only said that the _advice_ was to overpower you. I can see that it was obviously a very bad suggestion, and I would like to be very clear that I have gone right off the idea of trying to take your wand away. You also seem to have the advantage of me; sadly my source didn't get as far as telling me your name."

"Hermione Granger." She had the grace to look embarrassed. "I was only trying to Stupefy you, you know. It wouldn't have done any real harm, it's very temporary."

"So you're a good witch? Light? Whatever the word is - you don't aim to hurt people?" Jace was thinking fast.

"Of course not." Hermione sounded rather offended.

"And yet, Hermione Granger; you don't act like someone who has no experience of fighting. The way you reacted when you came out of the bathroom and saw me in the hallway, that volley of spells, harmless or not. This dark wizard who tried to take over the world – I imagine that might have taken some stopping."

Hermione nodded, almost imperceptibly. "It was a long time ago – we were just children, really, but yes, we fought Voldemort." After a moment, she added, "And we won – just."

"We have something in common, then." He also spoke softly. "We also won – just." He stepped forwards, hands still held out. "It seems a shame if we have to forget each other, or if one of us has to win. Perhaps we could go downstairs, spend a pleasant evening, and then agree to both walk away, with no more said?"

Hermione nodded, thoughtfully. "Perhaps we could." She lowered her wand, and Jace relaxed a little.

"Let's go back to the others" He started towards stairs, then paused. "Except - I don't suppose you could. . . .?" He indicated the tortoise with one hand "The children would love it, but it isn't our house, and the owners might have been attached to the chair."


End file.
